


The Cure for Heartbreak and Tragedy

by GhostFan77



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hotel Sex, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Passion, Sex, Tragedy, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 09:41:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16060472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostFan77/pseuds/GhostFan77
Summary: A chance meeting with a handsome blue-eyed stranger on one of the worst days of her life leads to more than either could've imagined.





	The Cure for Heartbreak and Tragedy

**Author's Note:**

> "Love can cure heartbreaks, misfortune, or tragedy. It is the eternal companion." 
> 
> -Anonymous

How did it come to this? 

A freshly-lit cigarette between her fingers, she brought it to her lips, inhaling the carcinogen-filled smoke. She wasn’t even a smoker, and up until this afternoon, she hadn’t smoked a cigarette since she was 18. 

That was twenty years ago. 

She tried to tell herself that this business trip came at a good time, that she needed to get away for a few days. And really, she did. She had just lost the man she had thought of as the love of her life for several years, and then it all came crashing down. Hard and fast. She found out that their life together was a lie. He tried relentlessly to talk to her, wanting to work things out. There was no working anything out, however. She was hurt and felt betrayed; she couldn’t talk to him, for there was nothing to be said. And if she thought of something at a later time, it would have to wait until the sting faded away. 

That would never come to be. 

Dejected at her refusal to see or talk to him, he took his own life. His family, understandably irrational in their grief, blamed her for his loss, forbidding her to attend his visitation or funeral.

He was buried this morning. 

She managed to make it through the morning client meetings she had scheduled, then found her way to the nearest bar so she could drown her sorrows. In her own grief, she had started to blame herself as well, even though in moments of clarity, she knew that she was not to blame. He was the one who fucked things up. He was the one who fucked her over.

She needed to numb herself. With a cigarette in one hand and a whiskey on the rocks in the other, She wasn’t even sure if this was the best way to accomplish the mind-wipe she so desired. She was open to better ideas, in case any came her way. 

She sat at the end of the bar, keeping to herself. Her elbows were rested on the bar, her hand clutched around the condensation-wettened glass. She kept her head down and avoided eye contact with the bartender and anybody that came near her. 

She was still in her black business suit and red heels, looking terribly out of place in this hole-in-the-wall bar. 

The front door opened; she glanced to her left to see two men walking into the bar. They were talking and laughing, and she could pick up on an accent of some sort; she couldn’t place it though. One was taller with broad shoulders, dark blonde hair, and a strong nose, his eyebrows arched comically as he smiled and laughed with his friend. The other man was a few inches shorter with a lean build and dark hair. Both men wore jeans and black leather jackets, and were attractive in their own rights.

She realized that she was staring, but before she could avert her gaze, the taller gentleman met her eyes. His were still crinkled in the corners from a smile directed at his friend, but they crinkled even more as he returned her look, his smile somehow growing wider. 

She didn’t return the smile, turning her attention back to the glass in her hand. 

She lifted the glass to her lips, taking a sip, then following with a drag from her cigarette. 

Why am I even smoking this wretched thing, she thought to herself. She was going to need some gum later to rid her mouth of the flavor. 

The bartender greeted somebody that had just approached the bar. “What can I get for you?” 

“Two beers, please.” 

Without looking, she knew from the faint accent that it was one of the men who had entered the bar moments ago. She didn’t, however, know which it was, nor did she look. 

She closed her eyes as she brought the cigarette to her lips for another drag. 

The man sidled up on the barstool next to her, and turned slightly her way. “Hi.” 

Without looking, she nodded slightly. “Hi.” 

He clears his throat. “Can I get you a drink…?”

She takes a sip of her whiskey. “Thank you, but I’m good.” 

He continues. “You’re getting kind of low there. Can I get you another?” 

She turns her head to look at him. It was the taller man. His blue eyes looking into hers, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned, his eyebrows looking like they were permanently arched in an amused manner. She narrowed her eyes a bit, still trying to place his accent. Why couldn’t she pl-

“Sweden.” 

Fuck. Could he read her mind? 

“Pardon?” 

“You looked like you were trying to place my accent. I get that a lot, as you can imagine.” 

She nodded. She was in no mood to talk to anybody, but didn’t want to be impolite. He seemed nice enough, and on a normal day, she would’ve definitely wanted to chat him up. 

Today was not a normal day. 

She took another drag from her cigarette, then snubbed it in an ashtray. “Listen, I’m sure you’re a great guy, but I’m not interested. I’m having a really bad day, and I’d like to be left alone.” 

He motions to the bartender to get her another drink. She starts to object, but the man next to her interrupts her with a shake of his head. “Want to talk about it? Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger than to somebody you know well. I’m happy to listen.” 

She turns her head to look at him again. “Thank you, but no.” 

“Are you trying to forget about it? Drinking to forget?” 

“Something like that.” 

“You’re going to need a few more of those to accomplish that, love.” 

The bartender brings over the beers he had ordered for him and his friend, along with the whiskey on the rocks he had ordered for her. 

“Don’t you want to go hang out with your friend?” 

He shrugs. “Nah, I prefer a more challenging conversation with somebody that doesn’t like me.” 

An involuntarily “ha” escapes her lips. 

His lips curl into a smile, and he winks at her. She felt the corners of her lips lift slightly, and it took a Herculean effort to suppress that smile. He was charming, and also very cute. 

“Plus, we’ve been on the road for months. He’s one of my closest friends, but I see him every day. Every. Single. Day. Do you know what that’s like?” 

She shrugs. “I see my best friend once or twice a year, so you’re lucky to see yours so often. I doubt you’d consider me fortunate to see mine so infrequently.” 

He ponders her words for a moment, his blue eyes twinkling at her. She turns her attention back to her drink. She can’t handle all that eye contact, not today.

He puts a hand on her arm. “I’ll be right back, okay?” 

She nods before taking another drink of her whiskey. 

He gets up from the barstool and walks over to his friend, who was sitting at a nearby table. She hears a quick conversation in Swedish, reminding her of her great-grandparents, a Swedish couple who had immigrated to America shortly after they had gotten married. 

The taller man returns to the barstool next to her; she hears the door open again, and she turns her head to see his friend walking out. 

She motions towards the two glasses of beer in front of him. “Your friend didn’t get to have his beer.” 

He laughs softly. “He’ll get over it, love. Just means there’s two for me!” 

She couldn’t help but snigger. 

“Ah, I’m growing on you, aren’t I?

She sighs and looks at him. “Listen, on any given day, I’d be way more sociable. You seem like you’d be a lot of fun to…” 

She cuts herself off. To what? She didn’t know where she was going with that train of thought. 

He raises an eyebrow. 

She continues. “I’m sorry, but you’re literally catching me on one of the worst days of my life.” 

He contemplates her words, slowly running his thumb over his chin. “What did he do to you…?”

She looked away. Suddenly the ice in her whiskey was the most interesting thing in the world. She could feel tears welling up in the corners of her eyes, and she fought to stave them off. She wasn’t an overly-emotional girl. Never had been. And she surely wasn’t the type to cry in public in front of somebody she didn’t even know. 

She suddenly felt his hand on her back, rubbing it gently, as he tried to console her.

She wiped the one tear that had escaped with the back of her hand. He kissed the side of her head. 

“Do you want to get out of here…?” He asked softly. 

She exhaled through her nose. Did she? 

She looks at him with a slight smirk, her eyes slightly reddened. His hand was still on her back. “Only if you promise not to kill me.” 

He chortles. “Don’t worry, I only kill pretty girls I meet in bars on Mondays. What day is it?” 

She raises an eyebrow. “It’s Wednesday.” 

He winks. “I guess you’re safe then, love.” 

He gets their tabs from the bartender, and leaves a $20 on the bar. They leave their barstools and exit the bar, heading down the sidewalk with the hustle and bustle of the city around them. They walked in silence, ending up at her hotel 15 minutes later. They walk into the elevator, and she hits the number for her floor. The doors close, opening after a short ride a few floors up. They walk down the hallway to her room. She reaches into her purse for the keycard, and she swipes it. The little light on the door turns green, and she opens the door, walking inside. He follows her in, the door closing behind him. She turns a light on. Her room was exactly as she had left it this morning, except housekeeping had made the bed. 

She turns to face him. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back shortly.” 

He nods, then looks around the room as she walks into the bathroom. He kicks his shoes off, putting them near the door, then slips his jacket off, setting it on the back of the office chair at the desk. He crosses the room and sits on the sofa, awaiting her return.

In the bathroom, she slipped out of her office attire and heels, opting for something more comfortable. She threw an Iron Maiden t-shirt and pulled on her yoga pants, then ran a brush through her hair, sweeping it into a messy bun. She quickly brushed her teeth; she could still taste a hint of the cigarette she had smoked at the bar. 

She opened the bathroom door and walked out, crossing the room to join him on the sofa.

He raises his brow. “You’re a Maiden fan…?” 

She looks down at her shirt, then nods as she looks back at him. 

He was clearly amused. On a better day, she would’ve asked why. 

He smiles, laughing softly. “So am I. Have been for years. I actually know them pretty well.” 

Somewhere in her mind, it registered that he knew Iron Maiden, and on any other day, she would’ve asked how. 

“What else do you listen to, love?” 

She reaches for her phone, and taps her way to a playlist she’d been listening to lately. She hands him her phone so he can take a look. He scrolls through the mish-mash of artists and genres.

“Metallica…Foo Fighters…oh, a little bit of Queen – good choice…hmmm, Bread?” 

“Soft rock band, mostly active in the 70’s.” 

He nods. “Ah.” 

“You should check them out. If you’re ever looking for something mellow and melodic with excellent songwriting, I mean.” 

He smiles softly. “I’ll keep them in mind…”

He keeps scrolling. “GNR…ah, there’s some Maiden!...Cranberries…Van Halen…and Ghost…? You like them?” 

The blue-eyed man in front of her cocked an eyebrow, looking inexplicably amused again. 

“Yeah, why? Are you going to tell me that you know them too?” she said, looking at him with her own cocked eyebrow. 

He laughs without answering, running his ringed hands through his hair. 

“I really respect and appreciate that they make it about the music and not about themselves. Not to mention, they have an amazing sound.”

He studies her face for a moment. “Have you ever wondered what they look like under their costumes?” 

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I haven’t really put much thought into it.”

“Do you think they’re all a bunch of Satanists?” 

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, whatever. About as much as Ozzy was in his heyday when he was biting heads off of bats and doves. It’s all just a schtick, somewhat for shock-value, pushing the envelope. They’re probably a bunch of relatively normal guys though.” 

He smirks at her as he slowly runs his thumb over his chin. “Interesting perspective, love.” 

He looks like he wants to tell her something, like he’s searching for the words; he then appears to change his mind before any words escape his lips. Averting eye contact with her, he looks down at her phone, scrolling through her playlist again. 

“You know, looking at somebody’s playlist is a very intimate thing. Like, you catch a glimpse of the real person, you know? And I feel like I’m looking at your secret identity.” 

She raises an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean…?” 

He leans towards her and places his hand on the side of her face. “It means, there’s even more to you than I initially thought.”

She can feel the cool metal of the ring he’s wearing against her cheek as he runs his thumb over her lips. 

His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles softly. “I, um…don’t want to presume anything, love, but I’d really like to kiss you, if you don’t mind,” he whispers. 

She reaches for her phone without breaking eye contact, setting it on the end table, then leans forward to bridge the already small gap between them. She closes her eyes as their lips meet. The kiss was initially tender, but grew more and more passionate as they melted into each other. 

They part long enough to catch their breath, and then he slips his hand around to the back of her head, pulling her in for another kiss. His lips part and his tongue seeks access to her mouth, which grants its entry, meeting his tongue with hers. Their tongues tangle and twist in each other’s mouths. She pulls at his bottom lip with her lips as she slowly breaks the kiss. 

He runs his hands through his hair, looking at her with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “Wow…that was…” 

He doesn’t need to finish his sentence; she smirks and nods in understanding. 

He sighs. “Okay, I need to tell you something.” 

Here it comes, she thinks. He’s married. He’s got a girlfriend. He’s actually gay. He’s something, and it’s not going to be good. 

She raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything.

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. “I know we just met, and…fuck…I don’t think we’ve even exchanged names, have we?” 

She smiles softly and shook her head. “No, we haven’t…”

He returns her smile. “I’m Martin.” 

“Nice to meet you, Martin. I’m McKenna.” 

He takes her hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss. “Very nice to meet you, McKenna.” 

“So, what did you want to tell me…?” 

He sighs again. “Right. Um…as I was saying, I know we just met, and I know we don’t know each other well…yet. But I think I would really like to get to know you, for this not to be just a one-time thing. I mean, presuming that’s where things were heading for us…” 

He looks down, his cheeks turning slightly pink. 

Her hand was still in his hand, and he caressed it with his thumb, savoring the softness of her skin. 

“So, I need you to know something before we go any further. I’ll let you decide if you want to be involved with me. Normal dating is difficult, and I unfortunately end up with a lot of one-time things because of this. Some are intended to be that way…”

He shrugs. “Others aren’t, but end up as such for one reason or another.” 

He turns his attention to his phone momentarily; she can see he’s searching for something on Google. He scrolls through a few images, finding one to his satisfaction. He zooms in on a specific portion of the image, handing her the phone. 

She looks at the image on the screen, seeing hands on a guitar. His hands on a guitar, as evidenced by the rings that the figure in the picture is wearing, matching the ones that Martin has on his fingers. 

“Okay…so you play the guitar…? Oh, you’re in a band. Makes sense. You did mention that you and your friend from the bar had been on the road for quite some time…” 

He nods. “Yeah, he’s also in the band. But there’s more. Zoom out on that picture, love.” 

She does as instructed, and there it was: he was a Nameless Ghoul. 

She slowly nods. “It appears I’m not the only one with a secret identity…”

He laughs softly. “Ha, yeah, you’re right about that. As you can imagine, this complicates relationships for me. We attract a lot of groupies…”

She chuckles and raises an eyebrow. “I’m sure you guys do…! Do all of the guys partake?”

He shakes his head. “No. Both Papa and Air are married with families; they steer clear of groupies. I hate admitting this, but Alpha, our lead guitarist, and I probably get the most action, or whatever you want to call it.”

She nods. “I can see that. You’re an attractive man…”

He smiles, then shrugs. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s fun. At least, it was fun for awhile. But then, ultimately, things get pretty lonely. It’s just…empty and meaningless, you know? Having more is difficult, but I still want it.” 

She smiles sympathetically and puts her hand on his thigh. 

He furrows his brows momentarily. “I know you’re dealing with something right now, so you’re probably not in the best position to start something new. I’m not even sure that you’d want to start anything with me, if you’d want to deal with me being in a band, being on the road more often than not. But I feel like I’d really regret it if I let you go after today, potentially never seeing you again, McKenna.” 

She raises her eyebrows and widens her eyes. “Why me though…?” 

He takes her hand in his, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. “Because I’ve never met anybody like you, love. And quite honestly, I’m captivated by you.”

She smiles shyly and blushes. “Thank you, Martin. I’m flattered…” 

He kisses her hand again. “And I think you would see me for me, not as Omega. When we were talking earlier about Ghost, how you weren’t curious about what we were like behind the masks, how you respect what we do, and how you still haven’t asked about anybody else in the band, like the guy that was with me in the bar? You haven’t asked about him, for instance.” 

“And I won’t,” she replied. 

“We really are, as you said it, a bunch of relatively normal guys. And some of us want normal things. So, I hope you’ll consider…me.” 

She sighs. “Martin, I feel like you should know what I’m dealing with. I don’t want to go into it. I really don’t want to talk about it right now; it’s still too raw. But I want to show you something.” 

She reaches for her phone, and pulls up something in Chrome. She hands it to him, and he sees an online obituary. He reads it to himself; while he doesn’t see her name included in the obit, he surmises that this was her boyfriend or ex-boyfriend. And he suspects from how the obit is written that his death was sudden and unexpected, perhaps from a suicide; this was seemingly confirmed by the inclusion of the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline’s 800 number and website.

He looks at her, his mouth agape. “I…I don’t even know what to say, love.” 

She shakes her head. “You don’t have to say anything. There’s really nothing to say, Martin. We dated for a long time, and then things ended quite poorly. He couldn’t handle the consequences of his actions, so…he decided to end it all. His funeral was this morning, but I couldn’t be there. So when I told you that today was one of the worst days of my life, I wasn’t kidding.” 

He looks slightly horrified. “Oh, McKenna…I’m so sorry, love. And then I wouldn’t leave you alone at the bar when you—“ 

She presses a couple of fingers to his lips, silencing him. “Don’t. Please. Whether you realize it or not, you’ve been a pleasant distraction, and this is what I needed today. I’d so much rather be here with you than getting wasted by myself at that bar. And I feel like what started as one of my worst days ever, won’t end on that same note…because of you.” 

She watches as he digests her words. “Are you…are you sure?” 

She puts her hands on each side of his face, and beckons him towards her. She wraps her arms around his neck as their lips meet. The kiss quickly intensifies, and he swiftly swoops her into his lap because he so badly wanted to be closer to her. 

Seated on his thigh, she could feel a substantial bulge forming under her thigh; she also felt herself dampen in response. She shifts positions, now straddling his lap, her crotch rubbing against his. They moan into each other’s mouths as they continue to devour each other. 

They are separated as he lifts and removes her shirt and bralette, and then he buries his face between her breasts, lavishing them with wet kisses. He gently squeezes her fleshy mounds together so her nipples are within a few inches of each other, and he runs his tongue over each, moving his head back and forth repeatedly, deliciously torturing her.   
She moaned his name, throwing her head back and arching her back, slowly bucking her hips as she continues rubbing her crotch over his still covered length. 

He wraps his arms around her, rising from the sofa, taking her with him. She wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. After a short walk, she’s on her back on the bed, watching as he quickly removes his shirt, and then his jeans and underwear. Before he joins her in bed, he pulls her yoga pants and panties off, tossing them on top of his clothes on the floor, pausing to savor the sight of her naked and vulnerable form in front of him. 

The look in her eyes, however, was anything but vulnerable. She props herself up on her elbows, biting her lip as she takes him in, surveying his tattoos and his erect member. 

He winks and smirks. “Like what you see, love?” 

She returns the smirk and slowly nods, then crooks her finger, beckoning him to her. In no time at all, he was on top of her, their lips passionately locked together. His cock was between her folds; she tilts her pelvis up and down to ride against his length. She needed to feel him inside of her. 

She breaks their kiss, reaching for the nightstand’s drawer, sliding it open, and removing a few condoms, handing him one. 

He gets the hint, tearing the package with his teeth, and pulling away just long enough to sheath himself with the condom. 

He aligns himself with her entrance, and slowly eases himself in. She gasps, feeling herself stretch around his girth as he continues to enter her. After several moments of the most exquisite kind of agony, he bottoms out. 

“You okay…?” he whispers to her as he remains still, not wanting to hurt her. 

She responds by licking along his ear, and gently tugging at his earlobe with her lips. He moans as he bucks his hips forward and back, sliding in and out of her over and over again. He can feel the walls around his cock spasm intermittently, and he slams his full length into her, his head against her cervix. She moans his name as her eyes roll back into her head and her breathing hitches. 

“Oh fuck, McKenna…holy fuck…you feel so good! You feel so fucking good…” 

He continues to thrust into her fast and deep, pounding her nether regions into sweet oblivion. 

She’s about to warn him that she’s going to come, but the orgasm took over before the words made it passed her lips. Her climax was unrestrained as she cried his name and moaned in sheer ecstasy. It was more than he could take, sending him over the edge as well. With one final deep thrust, his seed spilled into the latex. The room is filled with sounds of the lovers’ orgasmic delight. 

He collapses on top of her, his body still twitching slightly from the aftershocks of his orgasm, his now-softening cock still inside of her. She wraps her arms around him, running the tips of her fingers up and down his back, kissing his forehead and eyelids. 

“I could stay like this forever,” he mumbles into her skin, not wanting the tenderness of this moment to end. It had been ages since he had experienced something like this. In fact, he struggled to remember if he had ever experienced something like this. 

She smiles softly as she continues to pepper his face with light kisses, not wanting the moment to end either.


End file.
